


Flashpoint!

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-24
Updated: 2009-02-24
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:38:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: “The truth is, I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back.”� -- Sweet Home AlabamaDesire, smouldering like a slow fire on a deserted campsite. What will it take to ignite it before it is too late?





	Flashpoint!

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

AN: This was originally written for the MovieQuote!Challenge on Checkmated.

 

**_“The truth is I gave my heart away a long time ago. My whole heart. And I never really got it back.”_ **

**_~ Sweet Home Alabama movie  
_ **

**Flashpoint**

“Honestly,”  
Hermione sighed audibly, pausing the DVD—again. “Can you not be quiet for ninety minutes and enjoy the movie with us? After all, _you_ were so set on getting a DVD player.” 

 

She glared at Ron, then Harry, and finally turned to Ginny for help. For weeks the boys had been badgering Hermione about getting a telly and DVD player for their shared apartment. Ron was intrigued with the moving pictures Muggles created with films, and he and Harry had been going to the Muggle cinema to get their fair share of the action-filled big screen. When Ron found out about DVD players, he turned into this little boy—his eyes sparkling, a goofy grin, and giddiness to rival the best of them. It was only a matter of time before Hermione gave in. 

It took her a whole weekend to figure out the DVD and telly, not so much due to the technology as such—after all, she _did_ have her own set at her parents’ house. No, the problem had been the magic—undiluted, raw, filling-the-room magic. 

Their shared apartment was in a building that they affectionately called Mini-Hogwarts because it was full of other wizards and witches. It had almost as many staircases, featured old paintings in the corridors, and even housed a Squib caretaker who owned an old gray cat. Unlike Mrs. Norris, Azure was mainly lazy and could usually be found asleep on an old blanket just inside the main entrance.

Because of this constant hum of magic, Hermione had to charm the electronic devices to work properly without electricity or interference. It had taken her two full days, but two weeks later, it had not once stopped working. She even managed to charm the remote control correctly. 

_If only the boys would realise how much effort that actually took!_ But no, they were just interested in their action movies. Both Ron and Harry had taken a particular liking to anything related to James Bond. Hermione didn’t mind those movies too much—James Bond was always played by good-looking men.

 

Without even thinking, her eyes wandered back to Ron. _Good-looking men…if only Ron would realise that he was her James Bond._ She sighed again and focussed on her anger.

“Why can’t you sit through a movie with us without making silly comments? We do that for you all the time.”

“But we don’t force you to watch the movies with us! You _made_ us sit here and suffer through it. I mean, really, who would come up with this shite? Did you actually listen to it, ‘Mione? ‘I gave my heart away and didn’t get it back,’” Ron countered, giving a bad imitation of Reese Witherspoon while looking at Hermione and challenging her with an arched eyebrow. 

“Ron, if you _must_ quote a movie, do it correctly: ‘The truth is I gave my heart away a long time ago. My whole heart. And I never really got it back.’ _This_ is a love story, a romance movie. Maybe you don’t understand romance; Merlin knows you haven’t been known to be romantic. But _we_ ,” she pointed at herself and Ginny, “happen to _like_ romance. So, if Harry is unable to show it to Ginny, then she might at least watch someone else get it in a movie.”

“Hey—I’m romantic!” Harry perked up, looking alarmed at being dragged into the argument. Ginny, who sat with him on the couch, snuggled closer into his embrace. 

“That’s true, he’s very romantic. Just last week he promised and organised a candlelight dinner. He even brought home a cold pizza for the occasion,” she giggled. Harry let go of her, sitting up straight and looking indignant. Just as he was about to retort though, Ginny went on, grinning widely and righting herself on the couch. “And I couldn’t love him more for it. After all, he _did_ make up for it later on that night.” 

“Too right I did, and don’t you forget it,” he countered, and pulled her close for a deep kiss.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Yes, he made up for it that night—if only they’d have used a Silencing Charm. She remembered only too well, lying in her bed across the hall from Harry’s bedroom, feeling tired, desperate, aroused, and empty all at the same time. Neither Harry nor Ginny were quiet in bed—add to that the rhythmic squeak of his old bed and the images in Hermione’s mind went haywire. She imagined herself being kissed and caressed. And, not for the first time, the someone doing all these good things to her was Ron.

It wasn’t that she resented Harry and Ginny being together. She just would like to have someone to share the same thing with. It had been since she had felt any sort of sexual closeness to anyone. The few blokes that she had gone out with never really interested her. They were all talk, talk, talk — mostly about their work at the Ministry. She had enough of it during the day and didn’t need reminders while out on a date. 

She glanced at Ron. _He has grown up a lot over the last few years. And not just mentally_ , she mused. Her eyes swept his body. Gone were his gangly posture and awkward movements. He was confident now, no longer afraid to be his own person. It showed through both his cocky gait and his relaxed posture while he sat in the arm chair, leaning back and casually twiddling his wand in his left hand.

_How I would love to know what else his fingers could do._ Hermione felt the heat rise in her cheeks at the thoughts of Ron doing _anything_ at all to her with his fingers and averted her eyes, quickly getting back on topic of the argument.

“Now, can we _please_ all be quiet and watch the rest of this film? There’s only about ten minutes left.” She used her no-nonsense voice and no one protested, so she pushed the button to continue. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Ron was regarding her with a thoughtful expression. When she turned to face him, though, he had already turned his attention to the telly. 

_I’m imagining things_ , she berated herself. _My mind is playing tricks on me because I’m daydreaming about him again._  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Morning.” Ron appeared in the little kitchen, yawning widely. Hermione, Ginny and Harry all looked up from their plates and greeted him in return. Ginny and Harry quickly resumed their quiet conversation about the upcoming holiday. 

_Gods, he’s gorgeous._ Hermione felt herself blush and jumped up from her seat, busying herself with the breakfast dishes. _This is getting out of hand._ Ron was her friend—her best friend even—not an object of her lust. It’s true that she’d always felt drawn to him, but in recent months it had become close to an obsession. She even wrote down all her thoughts and analysed them with a book she had found in the library at the Ministry. Annoyingly, it didn’t give her concrete answers, just vague ideas of what could be causing her longing. Deep down she knew it was something important, something big. On the surface, though, she shied away from those thoughts and convinced herself again and again that it was nothing. 

_Nothing but raw desire to be loved and cared for by the man of your dreams._  

No, she couldn’t think that way. Not now, not ever. Ron would never reciprocate, and, in any case, it wasn’t as if she were in love with him. He was just a friend, not a potential lover. Just part of the Trio—well, make that the Quad. Ginny was as much part of their little close-knit group as any of them. Since the war had ended almost two years ago, Ginny and Harry had found their way back together, and it was obvious to everyone that they would never part again. Why they both weren’t married yet was anyone’s guess. 

Hermione started and held her hand over her heart when she felt a pair of arms encircle her and lift her up. “Ron!” She struggled against him while at the same time fighting her increasing heart rate. “Are you mad? Set me down!” 

He chuckled at her and did as asked, though Hermione could’ve sworn he removed his arms from around her a lot slower than was necessary. 

“Probably, but I really just need to get by you there to get a glass.” He reached up and took one off the shelf, then stooped down a little to be at her height. _So close._  

 

Hermione swallowed and tried in vain to fight a blush. 

“And since you weren’t listening when I asked you to move, I had to do _something_.” 

She stared at his lips as he spoke and unconsciously licked her own. Her heart stopped when she realised that he had stopped talking and she was still gazing at his mouth. Hermione tore her eyes away and glanced up only to get lost in his ocean-blue eyes. It could only have been  
seconds, but it felt like an eternity. 

When Harry pushed through them on his way to the sink, Hermione blinked. “Ron, you could’ve just used your wand and levitated a glass over, instead of making me look like the idiot in your way!” 

As usual, she turned to safer, comfortable waters. As long as they fought, everything would be all right between them. Fighting she could deal with. When she fought him in their little banters, she felt secure. She knew how to handle him. It was moments like the one just before, when she forgot herself and almost revealed her desire for Ron, that panic took over and she became afraid.

 

“But I would’ve missed a perfect opportunity to pick you up.” He grinned and winked. “And put you in your place.” 

_Is he_ flirting _with me?_ Flustered and a bit more than just a little surprised at her own thoughts, Hermione squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw. Of course he wasn’t flirting with her. He was just acting the maggot, as per usual.

“Well, next time, just _ask_ and I will give it to you.” Her voice was even and strong, although her insides were squirming. Ron yet had to look away from her eyes and the intensity in his made her lose her focus. Not one to back down, she wasn’t going to break the eye contact either. 

Her breath hitched in her throat when he stepped close to her again. Leaning forward so that their noses almost touched, he spoke in a barely audible whisper, “So all I have to do is ask and you will give _it_ to me?” His eyes were so deep, so intense. His warm breath tickled her face, his fresh scent from the shower filling up her senses. His lips… _so close_. 

She fought the urge to close her eyes and kiss him. Swallowing hard, she turned away and took more dirty plates off the table. _He_ was _flirting with me._ Or wasn’t he? Gods, she had been so close to making a fool of herself by just kissing him. Too close. Ron would’ve surely laughed at her, or worse, he could’ve possibly even been disgusted by it. After all, he wouldn’t kiss Ginny like that and he didn’t see her any differently, did he? Not to mention that Ginny and Harry would’ve seen her do it, too. The former pulled Hermione back to earth.

“Hey! I wasn’t finished with that, you know? What _is_ going on with you lately?” Ginny scrutinised her best friend, who had just stolen her half-eaten breakfast right from under her nose.

“Oh, sorry, Ginny, sorry,” Hermione hastily replied, and put the plate back down. Flushed and flustered, she quickly made her excuse and all but ran to her room.

The door closed with a click and she took the last few steps before sinking onto her bed. Turning over to stare at the ceiling, she tried in vain to sort out her jumbled thoughts and emotions. Not for the first time did she wonder why on earth she felt so insecure and uncomfortable around Ron. Sure, she used to have a crush on him when they were in school together. But that had long since changed, hadn’t it? He had his fair share of dates and girlfriends, and she surely wasn’t a saint either. Neither had found their match since their relationships never lasted longer than a few months. 

Somehow, for her anyway, all the men she had dated lacked a certain _je_ _ne sais quoi_. None made her feel anything special. Sure, with some of her dates she had a fantastic time. More than once she thought she was close to finding that special someone. But each time, she found something lacking. The initial bond never seemed to go past physical attraction, and once that wore off, no amount of conversation could entice her to stay. 

Hermione didn’t understand that, though. After all, the topics of conversations were what interested her. Magical theories, old scripts and runes, but in the end it was just plain _work_. More than once she had ended up talking through the night and exploring all kinds of ideas and ways to use old magic to improve new, modern spells. And in the end, she said goodbye and goodnight to her colleague, not her lover or her boyfriend. 

Ron sparked something and it scared her. How could he have such affect on her when all they did was bicker? They didn’t even have the same interests. All he really cared for was Quidditch, and she wouldn’t even notice if the sport was banned. Who cared if someone invented a new move to find the Snitch faster or to throw the Quaffle more accurately if there were ancient runes on papyrus telling of great wizards and their fights, inventions, and medical advancements? Those things would help wizardkind; Quidditch was a useless way to spend and waste time. 

Yet she could not deny any longer the affect that Ron had on her when he came home from training or a match, successful or not. The energy coming off him from his peaking adrenalin level enticed her. His healthy glowing skin, his bright blue eyes, his firm body…his lips. Oh,  
how his lips entranced her this morning. 

_No_ , she thought, _I shouldn’t feel like this; I shouldn’t be aroused by my best friend._ She turned onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillows on her bed. _Pull yourself together!_ Try as she might, she couldn’t stop from thinking of him in that way.

A knock on her door made her groan in frustration. Who was going to disturb her now? She wanted to be alone! Another knock and she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Sitting up with her legs crossed on her bed, she quickly rubbed her face with both hands and brushed her hair back. While smoothing out her top, she called for the person to enter. When the doorknob turned and the door slowly opened, her heart began to race. _What if it’s Ron?_

“Hermione? Are you okay?” 

Hermione let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “Oh, hey, Ginny… I’m fine, really.” She smiled at Ginny, hoping to convince her and herself. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, you just seemed so flustered. And, well…” She closed the door and sat down opposite Hermione on her large bed, also pulling her legs up. “See, don’t be mad at me now, okay? I just want to know something…”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Hermione kept her voice steady, although her stomach squirmed. Did Ginny know about her little problem with Ron? No, she couldn’t. 

“Do you still fancy Ron?” Ginny asked gently.

She could feel her mouth fall open, her cheeks flush, and her eyes widen. She tried to respond, tried to tell Ginny that she most certainly didn’t, but the words failed her. So instead, she began to inspect her fingernails and, to her own surprise, cry. 

Ginny gasped softly and moved to put an arm around Hermione’s shoulder, holding her and making little soothing sounds as if rocking a baby to sleep. Hermione tried in vain to stop, and it took her a few minutes to get herself back under control enough to speak. “Ginny, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel so stupid, I—”

“Oh my god, you’re not pregnant are you?” Ginny interrupted her.

“What?” She looked up in surprise. “No, no I’m most certainly not pregnant. Unless my baby is the next baby Jesus, I’m certainly not pregnant.” 

“Been that long, huh?” 

Hermione nodded solemnly and leaned her head on her chuckling friend’s shoulder. 

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I’ve rarely seen you fall apart like this.” 

She thought for a while about answering Ginny with how stressed she was at work, but she knew that Ginny would never believe her. Not after keeping silent for so long. And maybe it was good to tell someone—not that Ginny was just _someone_ , she was her best girlfriend.

“You’re right,” she whispered finally. “It’s Ron.” Ginny nearly jumped off the bed in her excitement, but Hermione hushed her quickly. “There’s nothing to be excited about. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, he’s my friend and I...well...oh, it’s so strange to tell you this. He’s your  
brother.”

“C’mon! I knew about your crush on him at school and it never bugged me. Mind you, I still think you’re insane, falling for him…and I certainly don’t need _all_ the details, if you know what I mean.” She winked at Hermione and both shot each other a quick grin. “So, you’re obviously  
not over him?”

Hermione shook her head. “I thought I was, I really did. But recently…just the last few months…I can’t stop thinking about him. You know, we’re best friends, I shouldn’t be thinking of him in a sexual way and yet I can’t stop thinking of him doing—”

“I get the picture, thanks,” Ginny interrupted, her face screwed up. “So, are you just after his arse or are you in love with him?”

“Ginny!” Hermione forced a laugh and stared at her friend with wide eyes. _In love with him?_  

“So?”

“Ginny, I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, I like him—a lot. But he’s my friend, so that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“I’m your friend, Harry’s your friend…I sure hope you don’t look at us the way you do at Ron. Or do you have wet dreams about us as well?” She smirked and Hermione quickly threw a pillow at her. 

“He makes me feel like a schoolgirl.” Hermione’s cheeks were flushed now, and her eyes lit up as she went on. “I had butterflies in my stomach this morning. _Butterflies_ , Ginny.”

“So, then do something about it. Ask him out! Go out there now and ask him out for a coffee. Or, better still, take him to the cinema tonight!” Ginny giddily suggested.

“I’m not going to ask him out!”

“Why not?”

“Because…he’ll laugh at me. Gin, he’s not going to want to go on a _date_ with me.” She looked down, examining her fingernails again.

“If you wait any longer, he’ll have a date with some other witch who only wants him for fifteen minutes of fame. You know how they get. They throw themselves at him as if there’s some unofficial competition to be pictured in the _Daily Prophet_ the next day. ‘Hey, I slept with Ron Weasley,’ as if that were the best achievement any witch could have.”

“No, that’d be bedding Harry Potter.” Hermione smirked, and Ginny cheekily sat up straighter and grinned. “I know you’re right, but Ron seems to like the attention. And I don’t want to be compared with those slags.”

“Hermione, you’re not one of them. Ron would never treat you like that. Thick as he is, he’d never let anyone hurt you. Plus, people know of your friendship; I bet you the paparazzi wouldn’t even realise you’re on a date together.”

“Ron wouldn’t want to go out on a date with me, and I don’t want to go home alone after he picks up some witch.” _Wouldn’t be the first time that happened._ Hermione’s heart sank. She was hopeless. “Maybe I should just forget about all this. Why don’t _we_ go out this evening and have a good old girls’ night out?”

Ginny stared at her for a few moments before answering. “Okay. Let’s have a girls’ night out. And by the end of the night, we’ll both get laid.” She winked and grinned devilishly. “Of course, I’ll be stuck with Harry for that latter part…” After sighing dramatically, she joined in  
Hermione’s laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny and Hermione giggled heartily like they hadn’t done in a long time. Both sat at a small table in a Muggle club and sipped their cocktails. 

“Hehe, yes! I remember! D’you know I had to listen for _weeks_ about how you shouldn’t be dating _anyone_ at all?” Hermione giggled more. The alcohol made the oldest stories funnier by the minute.

“Yes, I can only imagine!” Ginny stopped giggling for a second and put on her best Ron imitation. “‘I don’t know what she’s thinking. She’s only fifteen. She shouldn’t be thinking about boys at all yet!’” Not being able to contain her laughter, she doubled over and gasped while continuing. “He is such a hypocrite. He’d been wanking his nights away at that age, and I wasn’t allowed to snog anyone just ‘cos he hadn’t.”

“Yeah, well, he made up for that now, didn’t he?” Hermione still grinned but her giddiness was gone.

“Oh, Hermy, come on! Don’t you think it’s time to get over the _incident_ with Lavender?” 

“I _am_ over it!” Hermione retorted, slightly put out.

“Yeah, I can see that…you’re _still_ jealous as all hell! You should really go and ask him out, you know.” Ginny regarded her friend with a solemn expression. “And you know what else you should do? Get another drink!” With that she stood up, wobbled a little and, after steadying herself, walked to the bar. 

_I am over that thing with Lavender._ After all, it’s been almost four years since it happened. Yes, she’d been insanely jealous back then, but she was over it. Really and honestly, she couldn’t even blame Lavender. Annoying as she was, she’d only done what any sane girl would have. She’d given in to a crush when she had the opportunity. She had done it with flash cards and obvious signs, not stupidly beaten around the bush like Hermione had. Back then, she had thought it was obvious when she had asked Ron to the Slug Club’s Christmas Party. Now she knew better. She should’ve just snogged him; it worked for Lavender. It had worked for Harry and Ginny, too. Hermione sighed.

“What are you sighing for?” Ginny asked as she set the drinks down on the table and then took her seat again. “You okay?” 

“Nothing, Gin, I’m fine. So, what’s this?” she asked, eyeing her new drink. It was the fifth different one Ginny had got her this evening. And mixing alcohol never was a good idea. _Who cares?_ she thought to herself, and then downed nearly all of it in one go. _Cranberry, not bad._

“It’s just vodka and cranberry juice, and you should go easy on it, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Are you sure there’s vodka in mine? Tashtes way too… healthy.” Hermione lifted her glass and peered first into it, then through it and proceeded to down the rest of its contents. “Way too healthy.” 

Ginny laughed again. “You’re shlurring your wordsh, Hermy. There’s vodka in it, trust me.” Ginny giggled at her own Hermione-impersonation.

“Don’t call me Hermy. I don’t like that.” Hermione mustered her best stern expression, but her eyes crossed and she looked awfully funny. Ginny exploded in a laughing fit. Hiccupping once, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as well. _I’m drunk! I’m never drunk…_

“D’you realise what we’ve done all evening, Her-my-own-ee?” She stuck her tongue out. 

Hermione reciprocated before answering. “Yesh, I do. We’ve behaved like a couple of giggling fourteen-year-olds who are blushing virgins with no better things to do than gossip.” She sat up straighter. “And, I am not shlurring my words anymore. Ha!” 

“Yes, you are, and you know what? We—and by that I mean _you_ —have been talking about nothing but Ron. Ron did this, Ron did that, Ron should do this, Ron definitely shouldn’t do that…Hermione, if you’re so in love with him, go snog him! It’s the only language he understands. Straight out and direct.” 

Hermione laughed. _Go snog him._ How ironic that she had just had the same thought not five minutes ago. Did Ginny read her mind? _No, of course not, she just knows Ron as well as I do._ Hermione shook her head only to realise it was a mistake. She was way too drunk and it made her dizzy. _Actually, I know him better than Ginny does,_ she thought proudly. Yet, she didn’t know—or, rather, wasn’t sure—what he felt for her. Sometimes she was convinced he shared her very un-platonic feelings; others, she was convinced he thought of her as nothing more than a second sister.

“Yeah, worked for you and Harry, didn’t it?” she stated flatly.

“Sure did! And speaking of the devils… here they come.” Ginny nodded towards the bar. Harry and Ron were trying to make their way towards the girls’ table. Harry precariously held two pints of beer, which spilled over twice when someone danced into him, while Ron carefully followed,  
carrying two cocktails. 

_Gods, he looks sexy tonight._ Hermione suddenly felt hot. How dare Ron just barge into her girls’ night out? He wasn’t supposed to be here and Ginny surely didn’t want to see Harry either. She tore her eyes off her object of desire and turned to Ginny to openly complain about the boys’ arrival, and clamped her mouth shut again. Ginny and Harry were blissfully unaware of their surroundings while sharing searing kisses that could make rock melt. _So much for our girls’ night out._  

“You gonna watch those two snog all night or could you be persuaded to give me some attention?” Ron’s hot breath tickled her ear as he spoke. He had found himself a seat and pulled it right up to Hermione’s—any closer and she’d be in his lap. _What a sweet fantasy that is,_ she thought. 

Goosebumps spread all over Hermione’s body and a pleasant shiver ran up her spine. She turned to him to find his face very close to hers. _Oh gods._ If she leaned forward, only a couple of inches, her lips would touch his. _Just kiss him._ That thought ran through her head over and over again. She swallowed and licked her lips. _Just. Kiss. Him._ But what if she misread his recent flirtatious behaviour and he didn’t want her to kiss him? She swallowed again, her mouth feeling dryer than she could ever remember. Nervously, she licked her lips again and  
briefly closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she found Ron was talking with Harry and not even giving her a second glance. _Right._ She looked at Ginny, who gave her a big smile and nodded towards Ron. Hermione shook her head and lowered her eyes. _We’re never going to be more than friends._  

Taking deep swallows of her tall glass, she emptied nearly all of it in one go, then set it back on the table and absentmindedly turned it around over and over again. Her cocktail had been very cold, and, since the air in the club was rather warm, the glass fogged up with a light mist. Getting lost in her thoughts of Ron once again, she proceeded to move her hand up and down the glass ever so gently while turning it, only to pass the time and un-fog it. 

“Hermione!” Ginny shouted at last. She looked up into the bemused eyes of her best friend. 

“I’m sorry, Ginny, did you ask me something?” Not stopping what she was doing to the glass, she surveyed her friend and also Harry and Ron. Both of the young men stared at her hand and the glass, Harry grinning widely and Ron wide-eyed and licking his lips. Hermione followed the boys’ gaze and quickly stopped what she was doing. Realising what it must look like, she blushed deep red, excused herself, and made her way to the bathroom.

When she returned to their table, Ron was gone, and Harry and Ginny were oblivious to the world. Sighing, Hermione turned to see if Ron was anywhere near by. It didn’t take long for her to find him, close to the dance floor and talking with some black-haired girl. _Great, he really doesn’t waste any time, does he?_ Giving him one last glance, she clutched her purse tightly and made for the exit. _Might as well just go home._ Pushing her way through the crowds, she stumbled and lost her balance. Just before she hit the ground though, a pair of strong arms encircled her from behind and pulled her back up to standing.

_Ron!_ was her first thought, but when she turned around she faced a stranger with kind blue eyes and mousy brown hair. 

“Are you all right?” His eyes showed genuine concern while his mouth showed brilliant white teeth and on the edges, little dimples appeared. Hermione couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Yes, thank you. I’m...I’m okay.” She hesitated for the briefest of moments before turning to leave. A hand on her left arm stopped her and she turned back to the stranger.

“Don’t go yet. Let me buy you a drink. You know…for the shock you have, from falling…” He winked at her and let his hand travel down her arm to her hand. “What do you say?” He tugged on her hand carefully.

“Oh, all right, but only one. I think I’ve had nearly enough for tonight already…” She trailed off and smiled nervously. He still hadn’t let go of her hand and was now pulling her towards the bar. She stood behind him while he ordered two drinks. 

“Champagne? Are you insane?” Hermione stared at the proffered glass.

“Actually, my name’s Shane, and you should drink it, it tastes better than it looks.” Shane winked at her and held the flute out again for her to take, smiling encouragingly. 

“Thank you, Shane.” Hermione took the glass off him, and they clinked glasses before sipping the content. 

“So, what is your name?” Shane continued, casually leaning against the bar and letting his eyes roam her body. Hermione concentrated on her beverage and tried to ignore his undressing, roaming gaze.

“Hermione. My name’s Hermione.” A small grin spread over her face. 

“That’s a beautiful name, Hermione. So, what does a beautiful woman with such a beautiful name do all alone in this club?” Hermione stiffened a little. _I’m not alone here!_ Except of course, she was.

“Oh, I’ve just been on my way home. My friends are further down in the back there,” she answered, pointing vaguely into Ginny and Harry’s direction. Shane grinned roguishly.

“So, what you’re saying is that I should let you leave now before your six-foot-something boyfriend comes across us?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, no worries on that part,” Hermione answered sarcastically. _Ron…_ She pushed that thought to the back of her mind before it had any time to develop properly and forced another big smile on her face. “No, I’m definitely single.” _Oh my god, how much did I drink?_  

“Good,” Shane answered, and held out another glass of champagne for her to drink.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She vaguely thought that she shouldn’t bring him home. She was way too intoxicated to Apparate, and, in any case, Shane would’ve fled straight away. He was, after all, a Muggle. In her drunken state, however, she didn’t care much for details. Arm in arm, they wandered the streets until finally they came to her apartment’s building. Not wasting any time, she took his hand and pulled him up the three flights of stairs and quickly unlocked her door with a wandless, non-verbal spell. Happy that she didn’t forget how to do that in her current state, she turned to face him and pushed the door open with her foot.

“Coming in?” she purred at him, and giggled as he steadied her from falling over. “Whoopsie, I sheem to fall a lot, don’ I?”

“Yes, you do. You’re rather drunk Hermione. Are you sure you want me to come in?” 

Hermione regarded him with utter concentration, not least because she had difficulties focussing her eyes. Instead of answering, she put her hand around his neck and pulled him down into a wet kiss. Shane didn’t question her any longer and soon both stumbled into the hallway of the apartment.

After kicking the door shut and shrugging their coats off, they resumed their frantic kissing. _Make me forget, make me feel alive,_ Hermione’s head kept screaming at her over and over. No matter how much she wanted to just get lost in Shane and have meaningless sex that night, she couldn’t push the picture of Ron with that black-haired girl out of her head. By the second, she got angrier at herself and more forceful in her kisses and caresses towards Shane. She fairly pulled his shirt open, not caring that they were out in the open where anyone  
could just walk in on them. 

Shane reciprocated in a similar fashion, obviously turned on by Hermione’s rough play. When she dug her nails sharply into his back and let them travel downwards, he groaned loudly, making Hermione moan in return with a few nips down her neck and exposed shoulder. 

A loud bang startled both, and as one they turned to see what had caused it. 

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, shocked to see him standing there in the hallway, shaking with anger. She pulled her open shirt closed quickly. He, however, ignored her.

“Get. Away. From. Her,” he snarled through gritted teeth at Shane, who backed off Hermione slowly. She however tried to stop him by holding onto his arm.

“Ron! What are you doin’? You’ve no righ’ to do dish,” she argued, slurring her words. Shane shifted uneasy eyes from Ron to Hermione and back again. 

Raising his voice, Ron focussed on her. “No right? Hermione, you’re _drunk_! Don’t you see he’s taking advantage of you?”

“How come you think he takesh advan… advan… it’s his fault? Maybe _I_ am the one who wantsh thish?” Hermione shouted back.

“I’m sorry, I—” Shane began, but was interrupted by both of them with the same reply:

“Stay out of this!” Ron and Hermione stared at Shane for a second and then back at each other, anger apparent in both faces. Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, daring Ron to go on. 

He, on the other hand stood with both feet firmly on the ground, his legs slightly apart, and drew himself up to his full six feet, four inches. Gesticulating wildly with his arms he went on, his voice loud and firm. “Do you even _know_ this guy? Hermione, he could be _anyone_ trying to kill you! You know how many Death Eaters are still out there, after us, after _you!_ ” 

“Ron, he’sh a Muggle. Muggles are not Death Eatersh. And what’s it to you anyway? You jusht don’ wan’ me to have fun! _You_ can bring girlsh home anytime you wan’ but I can’ have a good shag once in a while?” Hermione shouted just as much as he did. 

Shane, taken aback by the exchange of strange words, slowly backed away towards the front door. Hermione pulled her wand out and aimed at the door, locking it with a swift flick.

“You’re shtaying here. Don’ listen to Ron, he’s just being a prat.” She fixed her potential one night stand with a stern glare, failing to notice the panic in the man’s eyes. Ron seemed to realise Hermione’s temper would snap at any moment and did the only thing he could to prevent her from harming him or the Muggle. He pulled his own wand and disarmed Hermione swiftly, then bound her to the spot. Turning to the now obviously panicking Shane, he spoke in a calmer tone.

“What’s your name?” 

Shane eyed him warily, before answering in a surprisingly pleading voice. “Shane. Don’t hurt me, please.”

“Okay, Shane, look. I won’t hurt you. But you have to go. Hermione’s drunk and there’s no way I’m letting you take advantage of her.” Ron made it perfectly clear with his tone of voice that Shane didn’t have any other option but to go. While still holding his wand he made to open the door for the other man and let him out. Just as Shane turned to leave for the stairs, he cast a silent _Obliviate_ on him. He wouldn’t remember about the magic he saw when he hit the street, nor would he remember how he got to her place. He would, however, remember that he had to get home quickly to bake a chocolate cake.

Ron turned back to a furious-looking Hermione. He undid the invisible ties and pocketed his wand again. Hermione didn’t waste a moment and launched straight into the argument, slurring her words more than ever and stumbling across the sentences. Ron walked over to her and grabbed her around the middle, picking her up and carrying her into the kitchen, where he sat her down on the marble worktop and she stopped struggling. They were now about the same height and very close. _Too close!_ Hermione’s mind screamed at her intoxicated senses while she lost track of her scrambled thoughts. 

Ron’s face was only inches from hers, and his concentrated look as he levitated a potion bottle over from the shelf across the small room was enticing. She marvelled at his intensity. Ron caught the bottle with one hand, holding Hermione by her upper arm with his other. She shivered as she realised that he had not yet let go of her. Hermione felt as if her skin had caught fire where Ron’s hand left an imprint on her. He held her a little too tightly but she didn’t want him to let go, didn’t want to miss the contact. To the contrary, she wanted more. More contact, more burning skin, more raw desire, more Ron. She licked her lips, watching as he pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and then held it up to her mouth.

“Drink this, Hermione.” His tone didn’t leave her any choice. A tingling sensation swept down her spine at his commanding voice. _I wonder if he’s like this in bed._  

Grinning, she licked her lips again and he pushed the bottleneck against them, carefully pouring a bit of the potion into her mouth. Hermione swallowed and coughed violently for a few seconds. Ron quickly placed the rest onto the counter next to her and held her upright with both hands. She shuddered violently and then calmed down as the potion took effect. 

He pulled her against him, holding her in his arms. Hermione tried to focus her mind, feeling fuzzy and a bit nauseous from the potion. Ever so slowly, the fog lifted from her brain and, with every breath she took, with every beat of her heart, her mind became clearer. _I’m in Ron’s arms._ She realised that he didn’t need to hold her anymore. Her head stopped spinning and she was able to focus her eyes again. _Sober-Up Potion_. Of course, that’s what he gave her. Her back began to hurt from the crouched position she was in but she didn’t want to move, didn’t want to lose the moment. She was too afraid that Ron would let go once he  
realised she was herself again.

_Mmhhh_ _, he smells so good._ She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Ron moved. _Damn._ She cringed at the realisation that she had just inwardly cursed and grinned. Ron would be proud if he knew. Reluctantly, she lifted her head up and expected him to let go of her and possibly resume arguing. When she looked up, however, she found herself staring into dark blue eyes. His eyes, shining with _something_ she couldn’t quite make sense of. _So close_ , he was so close yet again. The urge to kiss him grew stronger and she needed to get away before she acted. Unable to move, she looked to the side.

“Ron, I… why did you do that?” she asked, suddenly remembering Shane and looking up. Ron fixed her with a look of disbelief and opened his mouth to retaliate. 

“You were _completely pissed,_ ” he started in an exasperated tone. “Hermione, you’re too good for _him_ , too good to settle for a random shag!”

“Oh, really? And you’re the judge of that? How’s that working out? I don’t recall ever telling you how to lead your love life!” The fire in her voice was back and she fixed Ron with a hard stare, trying to push away the urge to stop fighting with him and kiss him instead. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she continued to argue. “I suppose _you_ would know better who I’d be suitable for?” As soon as the question escaped her mouth, she panicked. She didn’t want to know the answer to this. She didn’t dare hope he’d point at himself. Desperately, she tried to extinguish the glimmer of hope that so stubbornly burrowed to the surface.

For a long moment, seconds—maybe minutes or even hours—Ron didn’t respond. He simply looked at her and then, without any warning, without a further word, he crushed his lips to hers. Shocked, Hermione didn’t move. He was kissing her and she felt like the whole world exploded in one big firework; in the proverbial _Big Bang_ of her personal universe. _Fire._ She was burning, inside and out, yet she was too dumbfounded to respond. 

He pulled away from her, a strange expression on his face. _Fear?_ She could see him wanting to speak but that action finally tore her out of her stupor and she reached out to him, drawing him near and kissing him. Kissing him with all she had to offer. 

Hermione’s senses overflowed with the sensations Ron caused with this kiss. He held her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll, made from finest china—never pressuring her, always allowing her to give a sign to continue. And continue she did, sweeping her tongue over his bottom lip. He accommodated her, and the bittersweet taste of chocolate, mingled with beer and Firewhisky clouded her senses. She needed to taste more, feel more. More of _him._  

Their kisses became frantic, desperate, as if their very lives depended on them. A whimper escaped, though she wasn’t sure whose. He buried one hand in her hair, the other holding and caressing her hip. Hermione pulled him even closer with one hand around his neck, giving him no choice but to stand in between her knees. It wasn’t enough for her; she needed to feel more and so she shimmied closer to the worktop edge, pressing her body into his, feeling just what this did to him.

He growled. She thought she might die on the spot. The low, deep, raspy sound that escaped his wonderful lips was enough to bring her to the brink of sanity. Arching into him, she elicited the same noise again, and she smiled at the knowledge that she drove him to make it. And then it was his turn to smile at her when his hands found their way under her top, caressing her breasts with confident strokes of his thumbs, teasing the already hardened peaks. Hermione closed her eyes and let her head loll to the side to give him better access. Ron slowly kissed his way down her jaw line, down her throat, swapping between sharp nips and soothing wet kisses until finally, he gently sucked on her pulse point. 

It was her turn to groan out loud. His sharp intake of breath told her that he enjoyed it just as much. But she wasn’t going to just sit back, she couldn’t stop herself any longer from touching and kissing him in a similar fashion. Hermione boldly tugged on Ron’s shirt, making him understand to take it off. He obliged, breaking their kisses for only a moment to throw the garment haphazardly behind him. He hadn’t even turned his complete focus back to her when she already flicked her tongue over his nipple while playfully teasing his other with her fingers.

“Fuck, Hermione…” he breathed out, breaking the silence between them. She grinned against his chest, lightly biting his skin, not caring that he had just cursed. He was slowly losing control, and she liked the power she had over him. Ron didn’t let her savour her power for long, pulling her up and claiming her mouth with his once again while pushing her top up and unclasping her bra with ease. She didn’t protest as he relieved her from her constricting clothes, which soon joined his shirt somewhere behind him.

Goosebumps spread over her body from the feel of his skin on hers. Her taut nipples rubbing against his slightly hairy chest, his hands on her back, her sides, her hips, her shoulders—everywhere and nowhere all at once. She wrapped her legs around him, grinding herself into his unmistakable erection, and he lifted her off the worktop. She held on to his shoulders and drew herself up to keep her balance and they broke their kisses. Again, it was Ron who broke their silence.

“Want you so much,” he rasped into her ear, and she shuddered pleasantly as his hot breath tickled her skin. “… always have… so much.”

“Oh Ron, me too…” she managed to purr before burying her face in his neck. _I’m going to explode!_ The love she felt for the man in her arms… _Love._ _I love him!_ “I’m yours, Ron, always have been,” she whispered against him, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t recoil at her admission.

He carried her to his bedroom, holding her tightly as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And at that moment she felt as if she was. She moaned at the brief loss of contact when he gently placed her on his bed and took time to place his wand on the bedside locker. Then he climbed on top of her, straddling her, intertwining his hands with hers and holding them in place above her head. He kissed her deeply, then let go of her hands, moving his own teasingly slow over her arms and down her body, trailing soft kisses and sharp nips in their wake. He stopped only to tease her breasts with his tongue and she wove her fingers into his red locks. _So soft—_ just like she had always imagined it would feel, only better.

Hermione arched her back as Ron made to lick, suck, and kiss his way across her belly and down to the hem of her skirt. She raised her hips off the bed, wanting to help him take the skirt off. Ron on the other hand, simply reached down and bunched it up around her hips. His hands cupped her bum and squeezed, making her inhale sharply. Settling between her thighs, he continued to kiss the inside of her legs, from her knees up. Hermione’s heart raced in anticipation of his mouth on her most sensitive spot.

One moment she thought this was one of her dreams, that she would wake at any moment—alone in her bed, without Ron—and the next moment she fairly screamed out his name as he pushed her knickers aside and wasted no more time in sucking on her clit, making her whole body tremble. Completely lost in the sensations she thought she’d come right then, but Ron abruptly stopped and moved back over her to claim her mouth. She could taste herself and was surprised at how much that turned her on.

Honestly, she’d never been this hot in her life. For months, years even, she had dreamt of this moment, and now that it had finally arrived, she didn’t ever want it to end. She reached out and helped Ron push his pants down. He kicked them off quickly, not caring that he had kicked over his prized new broom in the process, which in turn knocked a glass on his dresser. Neither seemed to hear the loud shattering as it hit the hard wood floor.

Before he moved back over her, he all but ripped her knickers off her, making her squeal and…laugh. Ron looked at her in surprise and she stopped laughing. It seemed as if he only just now noticed who was with him in his bed, and, for a second, both were still, fixed on each other’s eyes. Hermione marvelled again at the intensity of his blue gaze. The reality of what they were about to do dropped on her high spirits and she was afraid. She was afraid that he would realise too—afraid that he would think this a mistake, her to be a mistake. 

“Hermione…” he whispered, and kissed her then, slowly, deliberately, passionately. She returned the kiss in much the same fashion. Her heart burst with the love she felt for him and ached at the thought of this being a mistake. Whatever this was, it had already gone far beyond the lines of friendship, and whether they’d finish their encounter or not wouldn’t make a difference—something had changed between them. Hermione prayed to Merlin himself that it would be a change for the better. 

Their hands resumed to roam each other’s bodies, touching, rubbing and teasing the most sensitive areas. _Intense._ _Powerful. Breathtaking._ Hermione’s head spun dizzily as Ron gently pushed two fingers into her and began stroking her clit with his thumb. Trying desperately to focus on him also, she continued to shakily stroke his cock. _Too much._ If he kept this up, she’d surely come now. 

“Ron… stop… I can’t—” she panted in between ragged breaths. Ron immediately let go of her.

“I’m sorry, ‘Mione, I shouldn’t have—” he began, but she put a finger on his lips. 

 

“Don’t apologise.” She moved her hand around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing her lips to his. “I want this...want you...all of you.” She smiled at him, partly because she hoped the gesture would make him believe her and partly to hide her own nervousness. Hermione couldn’t deny it any longer if she wanted to: she was head over heels in love with Ron, and her heart was balanced in his hands. _Please don’t shatter it._ He kissed her again, and she wished he would tell her that he loved her. But he didn’t speak. Instead he reached out for his wand, a question in his eyes that she knew how to answer. She carefully took his wand and returned it to its spot.

“No need… potion,” she spoke softly, and reached out to stroke him again. He closed his eyes and thrust against her hand, his breathing becoming more laboured with every move. Hermione watched his face, his lips slightly parted, his tongue darting out and moistening them. Ron swallowed and opened his eyes, placing a hand over hers and effectively stilling her. She felt herself blush under his gaze as their eyes met. He slowly nudged her legs further apart and settled in between them, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of her. 

Lifting one hand, he pushed a strand of her hair back and leaned down to kiss her. Her insides squirmed at that gesture, and her heart beat wildly in her chest. _He’s so gentle._ She kissed him back and pulled his weight down onto her, relishing in how _right_ it felt. She ground her pelvis against him and moaned at the feeling of his erection pressed against her hot centre. Ron lifted his body off hers and reached down, positioning himself at her entrance. Hermione lifted her legs and wrapped them around him tightly. As he pushed into her, she moaned out loudly while he buried his face in her neck, groaning with pleasure. 

_Oh, yes._ Hermione closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensation of Ron—inside her, on top of her, around her. His musky, sweaty scent enveloped her as they moved against each other in a steady, needy rhythm. He kissed her neck, sucking on her skin, causing her to throw her head back. Holding on to his shoulders, she drew herself up, changing their angle a little, and she felt herself tightening around his cock more and more. Breathing hard, their pace increased and he pumped into her harder and faster. Hermione felt herself racing towards the edge and the intensity of the oncoming orgasm almost scared her.

_So good._ She lost all coherent thought as she fell off the cliff and stars exploded behind her closed eyelids. Never before had an orgasm been so powerful for her. Her muscles pulsated around him and she rode out the waves of pleasure until Ron’s final thrust. He moaned her name and he almost stilled, his hips bucking against her as his own climax overcame him. He pressed his lips to hers again, their kiss swallowing their sounds.

_Bursting._ Hermione’s heart tried to escape her chest. It was filled to the brim with love for the man who had done just that with her. They had made love. And now they lay in each other’s arms, their sweaty, exhausted bodies entangled with each other, and they kissed over and over again. Ron placed feather-light kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her nose, her chin and her neck. When he reached her ear for the third time, Hermione let out a small giggle. 

“Ron, that tickles,” she chided, still smiling. He smiled back at her then, his first true smile since their encounter had started and Hermione found herself lost in his eyes yet again.

“Hermione…,” Ron spoke hoarsely, but was interrupted as the door to his room suddenly burst open and a distressed Ginny stood in the doorway.

“Ron! Have you seen Hermi—oh my god!” Ginny clasped a hand over her mouth and stared at the occupants of Ron’s bed. Hermione squeaked a little and Ron quickly pulled a blanket that lay at the bottom of the bed over them. Before either could respond to Ginny, Harry appeared beside her.

 

“Does he know where she…” Harry trailed off and his eyes widened as he realised Hermione was not only with Ron, but in Ron’s bed—naked. Unlike Ginny though, he caught himself quickly and a wicked grin spread across his face. “‘Bout time, mate! Carry on.” With a wink, he took Ginny by her shoulders and steered her out of the room, simply closing the door behind them. Both Ron and Hermione stared after them for several moments.

“So…” Ron began. He now faced her lying on his side, propped up on one elbow.

“So…” Hermione replied shakily, wondering if she had the strength yet to face the consequences of their encounter. She shivered slightly as Ron pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. 

“Cold?” he asked. She nodded and he pulled their blanket higher up and wrapped his arms around her. He drew her closer to him and she could hear his heart beat fast but steady.

“Hermione… I—” He paused, seeking her eyes out with his. She held his gaze, hoping with all her might that he’d feel the same as she did. He seemed to contemplate something and then he continued. “I have a confession to make.” 

_Oh god._ Hermione held her breath, not daring to think what kind of confession it would be. Images of that black-haired girl earlier flooded her mind. Was he going to confess that he was in love with _her_ and this was just a mistake? She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she missed that he had begun to talk again.

“… and to tell you the truth.” Ron paused again, smiling lopsidedly now. “Well, the truth is I gave my heart away a long time ago. My whole heart. And I never really got it back.”

“No,” Hermione breathed out, trying to process what he was trying to tell her. His heart belonged to someone. _I knew it was too good to be true._

“Yes, don’t you see?” He reached up to touch her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “It’s you, Hermione, who has my heart. And I can’t pretend anymore, I tried so hard not to feel this way. It’s no use, it won’t go away.” Ron took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing in a low, strong voice. “I love you, Hermione. I love you, and I’ve been trying for ages to find the right words.” He laughed softly. 

 

“And all you could come up with were someone else’s. Out of a movie, no less.” Hermione grinned at him but his face fell at her words and he looked away. She giggled. “Oh Ron—those words were perfect.” He looked back at her, hopeful. “Yes, and Ron…” 

“Yeah?” 

She took his hand that had been caressing her cheek into her own. “I love you, too.”

_Fin._


End file.
